Trapped
by TWDwalker5
Summary: There is a prison break where Eric lives. And Tris just happens to get trapped in his cell. Will be rated M. Slight suggestions of rape. Violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to yet another fic sprouting from one of my brilliant ideas.**

 **Here is what you need to know:**

 **Have you seen Suicide Squad yet? No? Well, do you know about Jai Courtney's character? Captain Boomerang? Yeah, he was the one who inspired me to write this. Clearly, in this story his name will be Eric. But the name he goes by on the streets will still be Captain Boomerang.**

 **Don't worry if you think Eric is a little different in this story compared to my other ones. I intended everything that you will read.**

 **This is also my first Thriller. Exciting, right? I feel like every author needs these kind of shorts. To blow off some steam. To make characters be a bit crazy for a while. Out of control.**

 **This is Eris, but also isn't. You will see what I mean ;)**

"This isn't 'bring your girlfriend to work' day," Pat says as he walks past. I didn't ever really like Pat. He's too grumpy. Too much of an asshole as well.

Tobias squeezes my shoulder, pressing himself against me protectively, "She's just here for lunch."

Pat grumbles an inaudible response and jingles his bundle of keys before walking out of the door. I get up then, feeling out of place. Tobias looks up at me with his chocolate brown eyes, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. Even his guard uniform makes him look innocent when he does that. Even the handcuffs hanging out of his trouser pocket.

"Come on, don't take it personally," he says, taking my hand in his. I grin like an idiot, flicking some hair over my shoulder.

"I'm not," I clear my throat, "I don't really like this place."

"Well, I work here every day. Sometimes night shifts."

"Yeah, that's creepy," I say, shuffling closer to him and placing my knee between his legs on the metal bench.

"Sometimes I can hear the prisoners yelling for me to let them out," his smirk widens. He knows how much I dislike prison, "Sometimes I hear evil laughter-"

"Okay, that's enough," I raise my hand to his mouth, giggling when he kisses it, "Can we go home now?"

He nods his answer and stands up, gathering the leftover grapes into our new Tupperware container. I knew we wouldn't finish them. I brought too many cookies. It's my fault.

"Ready for inspection?"

"Huh?" I look up at him, raising my eyebrows. But then I realize what he's talking about, "Oh yeah... the inspection."

Tobias chuckles before pulling me into a hug, "What's the matter with you today?"

What's the matter with me? I really don't know. Maybe it's the fact that I've been paranoid ever since he got this dangerous job in prison. I mean, it's not that dangerous. But I've been having dreams lately. About the prisoners escaping. Maybe getting vengeance. Of course, I don't tell him that. He would over react.

"Let's go home," I peck his lips, but he takes advantage. He deepens the kiss and presses me harder against him. I laugh, pushing him away, "Let's go."

"Let's go," he repeats.

We walk, hand in hand, towards the metal detectors at the front of the prison. That's when the ground starts shaking. And debris starts falling from the ceiling.

There are yells at the end of the corridor. People start running. Guards. Some go further inside the prison. Some leg it towards the nearest exit.

"What was that?" I scream, holding onto Tobias.

His eyes scan past my head. His gun is out. I freeze.

"Tobias, what was that?!" I demand.

"I don't know!" he yells back, voice strained.

I spin around, stepping back as more people run past me. The building groans like a sinking ship. Something isn't right. Was it an earthquake?

Panic starts rising inside of me. I know that earthquakes don't usually erupt in short bursts. They are continuous. The ground shakes and shakes and shakes until everything around you collapses and you are left with nothing. This isn't an earthquake. This feels man-made.

I blink and he is three feet ahead of me. Tobias. I guess there are two kinds of people in the world. The ones who run away. And the ones who face the problems. He is running further into the prison.

I stand, wondering which category I fit into.

My legs force me after him.

"Tobias!" I yell, bumping shoulders with a wide-eyed guard. There are people everywhere. All the doors are open. Access granted. I run into a brown room, finding myself trapped. It's a box. What? Why is it a box? Where are all the corridors?

My head spins. I looks around and see a small window, all barred up. Then I see a bed. And then I freeze. This is a cell.

...Where is the prisoner?

I shriek and run out. I see now that the metal bars that are supposed to be doors have been busted. They were blown up. There is metal all over the floor.

People are still running. Screaming. And then the second explosion happens.

I duck this time, putting my hands over my head. Everyone seems to do the same. And when the quake is over, they start running again.

"Tobias?!" I try again, hands shaking. Body trembling in shock.

Okay, okay, okay, maybe I won't be able to find him. But I have to escape. I have ran too far into the prison. This is going to be hard.

I lean against the nearest wall, allowing people space to freak out. Somebody stands on my foot and I cry out. But I doubt that anybody can hear me.

There is a gun shot.

I freeze. My eyes widen. My heart starts pumping out of my chest. I see a flicker of bright orange in the crowd. Shit. Fuck. Where is Tobias?

There is another gun shot. And then another. And then another. Somebody falls down next to me and I bend down to help her up. But her eyes are bulging out of her head. There is a dark red dot on her forehead. Dead.

I scream and stumble back, ears ringing. I can hear nothing. I can see nothing. I just run. Run after Tobias. Run where I saw him last.

A sign on the wall tells me to turn right towards the nearest exit. Another sign tells me that on the left I will find a section called 'Solitary Confinement'. I am about to choose when I feel a body bump against me. Familiar and warm.

"Tris!" he runs up to me and wraps his arms around my body. He is trembling. Or is it all just me?

"Where... wh-where did you go?" I manage to ask, gripping fistfuls of his now blood-stained uniform, "I-I looked for you-"

"Somebody has help from the outside. They are bailing him out," he says.

I have no idea who 'he' or 'somebody' is, and quite frankly I don't give a fuck. I want to get out of this nightmare.

"Tris, you do as I say, okay?" Oh, no. I know what that means. We have to split.

"You're not leaving me-"

"I'm not leaving you," he grabs my head and forces me to look up into his eyes, "I need you to go where I tell you to go, okay? You'll be safe."

I don't hear what he is saying, but I concentrate on his mouth. How it forms words. How the words form sentences. He gives me a key. Not like a normal house key. This key is enormous and rusty. It looks like it opens a garage door.

He starts pushing me in one direction and I start running once I get the hint. I turn around about thirty times. Tobias still stands there, waving, nodding, smiling, pointing.

I run until my legs give up. I fall near a giant metal door, trying not to drop the key.

I turn around and see a body on the floor. A guard.

Prison break? Are you shitting me?

My hand clasps the key and it takes me five attempts to fit it into the lock. When I finally do, it clicks and I imagine gears turning. And then the door is open, and I run inside.

I slam it shut behind me, leaving the key on the other side.

I take a deep breath for the first time in what feels like forever.

The door is a cool rusty metal. Un-penetrable. A small window, the size of an iPhone, is installed in the door. Weird. I reach up to look through it and realize that I have been on the floor all this time, my legs unable to move anymore. I stand up, looking through the small gap. It's oddly silent. There are a few dead bodies out there. A thin fog floats above them, probably the result of all the explosions.

My heart is in my throat. Of all the things that could have happened to me today...

"Who are you?" a male voice barks behind me. I jump a few feet in the air, spinning around to answer.

"Tris!"

The man smiles a disturbing smile, one of his front teeth flickering with gold. I look down at his white boxers. Wait, boxers? Why is he half naked?

"You lost, sweetheart?" I place his accent as Australian. Yes, definitely Australian.

I shake my head no, praying he won't come any closer. He is obviously disturbed. I can see it in his eyes. And the fact that he is standing in only his boxers. My eyes jump to a pile on clothes near his bed. My heart stops.

A bed. A toilet in the corner. A pile of orange clothes. He's a prisoner.

"Come on, darling, don't just stand there," as I feared, he starts walking closer. I press my hands against the door behind me. I lift up my chin.

There is little light in here, but it is enough to clearly make out his features. He has blue eyes, but his dilated pupils make them look almost black. There is a small bump on his nose, just below the bridge. His lips are crimson, like he has been biting them for too long. And then there is his beard. It's surprisingly neat, unlike his dark curly hair.

"Did you come to keep me company?" he spreads his arms out, smiling from ear to ear. I see the word 'MUM' tattooed on the left side of his chest. It looks like it was done with a sharpie.

I look away when he enters my bubble. So, so close. His chest hair skims the side of my face.

"Or did you just get caught up in all the action outside?" he grips my hips as if he is my lover. Confidently. Like he knows I am not going to push him away. And I don't. He might be a murderer.

My breath hitches in my throat and I gasp when his hands end up on my lower back, pulling me closer.

"Don't touch me," my voice is below a whisper.

"You're going to be my pet," he smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I shake my head.

"Are you gonna get me outta here, pet?"

I shake my head again, "I don't work here."

Feeling the adrenaline kick in, I spin around and go for the door handle. But... there is no door handle. So I pat it down desperately, trying to feel for something to grab.

The man lingers behind me, wrapping his bare arms around my body. I want to scream, but nothing will happen. I have all this adrenaline and nothing to do with it.

"It's a one-way system," he whispers into my ear, "Can't get out, love."

How could I be so stupid? This is a prison.

"Your hair smells like strawberries," he inhales deeply, burying his face in my hair. I think about him arms. I think about how easy it would be for him to crush me.

I left the fucking key on the other side. There is a hole in the door. But I left the key on the other side.

"Do you know how long it has been since I touched a woman?"

His hand roam my body. I tense up.

"Get off me."

"Or what?" Suddenly there is anger in his voice. He grabs my shoulder and spins me around, "You don't get to choose what happens to you in prison," his blue eyes burn into mine, and I am even more uncomfortable with his lack of spacial awareness, "You don't get to choose anything. So I suggest you get used to it, pet."

"I'm going soon," I gulp, not knowing if I utter the truth, "My boyfriend will get me."

"Your boyfriend?" he pouts, stroking one side of my face and brushing my hair away on the other, "Should I be jealous?"

He sounds like I should actually answer, so I nod.

He releases a hollow laugh, and I smell his empty-stomach breath, "Did you bring me any presents?"

I press myself harder against the wall, arms frozen at my sides. How do I escape?

Abruptly, he grabs my denim jacket and starts patting me down. I hold my breath, noticing a smile playing on his lips. His hands dig into my pockets, pulling everything out. Everything.

He finds my purse first, "Take what you want. Just leave me alone."

"This isn't a robbery, pet," the man pops it open, scanning all the contents. He pulls it apart and finds all my bills. There is a satisfied sigh. And he leans down to smell them.

I look away, feeling like this is some kind of personal moment. Honestly, I don't give a shit about my purse.

Oh, my God. My phone.

I feel it in my jeans pocket now. Hard against my thigh.

I have a phone.

 **Tell me what you guys think in the reviews :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**You know how it is: so much work to do. Didn't know university was going to be so hard. But I am making time for stories. In the process of writing the sequel to Nanny. Get excited!**

 **For now, enjoy this vastly different fanfic.**

I stare down at my jacket- a mess on the floor. Pockets emptied. And the man who emptied them is sniffing money next to my shoulder.

There is barely any noise left on the other side of the door. Most of the guards are dead. The prisoners have escaped (except from this one). It's silent out there. I wish I could be out there in the hall, lying on the floor and pretending to be dead until Tobias would come and rescue me.

In here, I have no chances. No chances except from a slim one that is stuffed in my pocket.

I step back from the man, hoping he wouldn't see me move. He does.

He folds up the dollar bills with one hand and pushes them under the waistline of his boxers, "Come over here, pet," his teeth glisten when he smiles, "I don't bite."

My hands fold across my chest slowly as I try to keep my back to the walls. Once he's distracted- that's when I can use the phone. I am not going to grab it while he is looking and throw away my only chance of getting out of here.

"What's this?" his voice goes higher as he takes a blunt object out of my purse. His eyebrows raise- so do mine. One flick with his thumb and a blade appears in his hand. Shit. It's the pocket knife Tobias gave me months ago. An inside joke. I can't believe I forgot about it.

For fuck sake.

"Good job I got my hands on it before you did, eh pet?" his laugh is mocking.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I watch him approach me, throwing my purse across the room. The pocket knife is still in his hand. Pointing at me. I lean against the cold wall, momentarily closing my eyes.

"Aw, don't be like that," he whines, the sharpness of the blade digging into the soft skin above my collarbone.

Automatically, I slap his hand away, and the knife clatters onto the ground. He grunts like I did something to piss him off. Which I probably did.

One of his hands wrap around my neck and I hold my breath, "You're a feisty one- "

"Don't touch me," I command, daring to hold his gaze for more than two seconds.

He laughs again, his pupils dilating as our bodies get closer. I try to shift away but there is no more space behind me, "I'm not leaving you, pet."

I whimper when his hand runs along my body, getting closer and closer to my butt. Where my phone is. Tears prickle my eyes and my heart starts hammering against my ribcage. He feels it because our bodies are pressed together. It makes him smile even wider.

"How about you call your boyfriend and get us out of here, eh?" I tense up at the word 'call', "I can buy you a drink once we're out."

Suddenly, his hand is on my ass. I'm not as much panicking about his touching as I am about the fact that he can now feel the solid rectangle that is my phone. I notice how he stops breathing for a second. He resumes when the phone is in his hand.

I release a whimper when he starts trying to guess my passcode. Once he realizes there is no point in wasting so much time, he holds it up to my face, "If you please, lovely."

His eyes crinkle at the corners. A jolt of adrenaline rushes down my body as I imagine myself pushing him away and running to the door. It would be pointless. I can't escape. And I can't let him escape either. He is mentally insane. And in prison.

Mentally insane. Who knows what he will do if I don't follow his instructions?

I shake my head, receiving a wet kiss on my cheek, "Don't disappoint me, pet. Unlock your phone."

My hands are shaking so much that I struggle to lift one up to the phone he is holding onto so tightly.

He leans in more until his breath is on my ear. I shake, knowing exactly how this will end. I can't let him get into my phone. No matter what.

So I go for it. I jab my elbow into his wrist. This takes him by surprise and his grip on the device loosens, causing it to fall to the ground. In unison, we look down at it. The screen is intact. The fucking thing.

Without thinking any further, I slam my foot down on it. The phone shatters, parts of it skidding over the floor to the other side of the room.

The prisoner releases a quick breath, finally giving me space, "No!" he runs to where the pieces have scattered, head in his hands. He looks like he is about to rip his hair out.

I take a deep breath and make a run for it. To where the knife has previously fallen.

He is quicker than me.

I spot it on the floor and grab hold on it so tightly, it cuts my palm. I ignore the pain and try to control my shaking hands.

A sharp pain at the back of my head makes me shriek. He pulls at my hair, dragging me backwards so fast, I think I got whiplash. It's a wonder how my neck is not broken. I fall on my back.

He gets on top of me and grabs my wrist, slamming it against the floor repeatedly until I let go of the weapon. I scream, trying to wriggle away from under his body.

"What the fuck did you do?!" his eyes fill with murder and I know how hopeless I must look. I keep screaming because it hurts. It doesn't matter than nobody can hear me.

His hand wraps around my neck and lifts me up into the air. I choke, not expecting the air to escape my lungs so quickly.

I am slammed against the wall, feet not touching the ground. The light from the window with the bars is piercing. I shut my eyes, feeling my ears heat up. The pressure in my head is building up. It feels like I might explode.

"Get off me!" I seem to scream in my head, but the words can never reach my lips. The pressure is overwhelming. I can't breathe.

Both of his hands squeeze around my neck, shaking me violently. I stop fighting it and my head bangs against the wall behind me, blurring my vision.

His angry grunts sound muffled. I shut my eyes, dropping my arms by my sides.

He stops moving me and his grip loosens. I take a deep breath without raising my chest. He steps back. I fall forward against him. Thankfully, he holds me up.

"Shit," he whispers against my ear, "You alright, pet?"

I keep quiet, allowing him to hold me up. It's funny how suddenly calm he is.

"I didn't mean to…" his words trail off. His arms wrap around me and he lifts me up. Somehow, my head ends up resting on his shoulder.

My throat feels swollen. My head is hot. I won't move. I won't breathe.

And maybe that is how I will finally escape. By playing the long game.

 **Hope you enjoyed chapter 2. Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

His chest smells like musk. I allow myself the freedom to open my eyes, but only slightly. The 'MUM' tattoo on the left side of his chest is more green than black up close. His chest hair brushes against my cheek and I almost wince at the proximity.

But I control myself. I keep my eyes closed as he lays me down on his prison bed. The ghost of his hands around my neck makes it hard to swallow. I realize that the feeling might last for a while.

"Wake up, pet," he says for the tenth time since strangling me. I won't. He can't hurt me if I stay like this. That's what I figured out anyway. He is like a child who has accidentally killed a puppy.

I feel his calloused fingers brushing the side of my face. They are sloppy; he accidentally pokes me in the eye. Automatically, I blink but a bang outside the cell makes him turn his head and he doesn't notice. Another bomb?

The mattress underneath me is rock hard and emits a filthy smell… dirt and moisture and sweat all mixed into one. I try to ignore it, for the sake of keeping my life. There is no point in 'waking up'. I have no way out. At least not yet. I must think. Come on, think.

"I'll take care of you, gorgeous," his whisper is harsh against my ear. I bite the inside of my cheek as he stands up, mattress creaking as his weight is lifted.

I open my eyes then, tilting my head to the side as he walks towards the door. The muscles in his back flex as he leans down to pick up a familiar object. The knife. For fuck sake.

His head turns back quickly and I immediately shut my eyes. I hear him sigh softly before walking back towards me.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that he could kill me. He has the knife. He is a prisoner. He could kill me. What is stopping him? The fact that he calls me all these names means nothing. He could be a psychopath. Well… he clearly is.

I hold my breath as the room falls silent, not daring to move a muscle on my face in case he is looking at me.

And then I feel him crawling on top of me. I allow myself to breathe once he is lying next to me, closer to the wall. I feel his hand go under the pillow under my head. He is ever so careful about it. Then, his hand is gone. I figure that he has placed the knife there. He has no pockets.

There is a moment when I allow myself to take a deep breath. The air in this room is stale and I can never get enough from a small breath. His body stills and his head nuzzles into the crook of my neck. I pray that he cannot hear my heart pounding in my ears, my collarbone, my ribcage. Everywhere, really. A pounding heart means I am conscious and aware. If I was knocked out, I would be as peaceful as anything.

He buries his nose in my hair and takes a deep breath, "Mmm, wake up, pet."

The sound of his deep voice so close to me sends a few chills down my spine. One of my hands twitches and I can hide it by tilting my head away from him. He grabs my chin and makes me face him again. I will not open my eyes. I will not.

I feel him breathing on my face, "I know you're in there somewhere," his lips brush past mine and I lose my breath somewhere in the middle of my throat.

There is a knife directly beneath my head. All I must do is claim it. And then… and then what? The door is still locked. It's not like I can get out. But I can't spend another second here.

I open my eyes.

His dilated pupils are staring back at me and the edges of his eyes crinkle in amusement. I push my head back as far as I can but he continues leaning in, closer and closer, until his lips touch mine.

I gasp quietly, shutting my eyes in concentration. This is it. Maybe with his guard down, I can steal the weapon and maybe I'll have a chance.

Hesitantly, I kiss him back, for a second uncertain that this will work. But it starts to. He grunts in approval and begins smashing his mouth against mine. His arms squeeze the air out of my lungs which brings me to gasp even more, which seems to be turning him on.

I slide my hand back closer to the pillow, measuring the distance to the knife as the man begins to suck on my neck. I cannot grab it from here without arousing suspicion. It must be subtle.

We both hear somebody running down the corridor outside the cell and pause for a moment. His mouth resumes planting kisses across my lips once the footsteps fade away. My heart sinks slightly. I wonder who that was- a prisoner? A police officer? Tobias looking for me?

One of his hands runs up and down my body, groping my boob along the way. It sends a chill down my spine. It feels like cheating, but is it cheating when it's the only thing that can save my life?

I decide to put my hands on his shoulders, just in case I should push him away. His skin is moist and rough under my touch. It emits heat that almost burns my fingertips.

I gasp as his hips begin to grind against mine. He is still wearing only his boxers so it is easy to feel his erection through the thin material. I turn my head to the side and he grabs my jawline, forcing his mouth onto mine. His tongue pushes its way through my lips as an accidental moan bubbles up at the back of my throat.

Somehow his mouth tastes like any other person's mouth would. They are allowed toothbrushes in prison, right? That would explain it.

His warm hand begins to slither its way up my shirt, skimming my hip. I thrust my hips upward and in one swift motion flip us over so that I am on top. The movement makes his hand retreat and go up to my hair instead, holding it back to stop it from falling on his face.

"My cock is so hard for you, pet," our lips meet again as I position my hands on either side of his head (and on either side of the pillow). If I go for the knife now, he won't see it.

He brings his hips upwards and positions both hands on my ass, ultimately pushing down until the unmistakable feel of his member rubs in between my legs. I release a moan, leaning down to kiss him. I think he is surprised by the action, so I take my chances and run both hands under the pillow. The knife is cold once I grab it and I spend a few seconds debating which hand gets to carry it.

I decide my right and clench it tightly in fear that it will get knocked out as it was last time.

My heart speeds up when I feel his hand tugging at the front of my jeans. That's when I strike.

I take the knife from under the pillow, nerves kicking in and jolting through my body. I must stop my hand from shaking as raise it up in the air and plunge it down into his shoulder. I register the shock on his face, followed by rage and realize that I need to get away. Now. He yells as the knife sinks into his flesh, "You bitch!"

I jump off him, stumbling on my own feet for a few long seconds. I hear the mattress creaking behind me as he gets up.

I run towards the door, suddenly regretting what I did. He is going to kill me. Or worse. Rape me. And then kill me.

I slam both hands against the metal door, pounding and slapping it until my ears start ringing, "HELP ME!"

Behind me, the prisoner is crouching down on the floor. He yanks the knife out of his shoulder with a groan, squirting blood.

I turn back to the door and continue my relentless pounding. It is almost like a hallucination when the door opens, revealing a police officer, my height, my age, clutching a big gun. His eyebrows are furrowed and I think he asks me if I am okay 'm'am', but I shoot past him and run as fast as I can.

The air is fresher here. There is more space and more light. I don't remember my route back but I keep going, leaping over dead bodies and dusty debris.

"Argh!" there is a yell behind me. I turn my head to see the prisoner knocking the weapon out of the guard's hands and slitting his throat with the same knife I used to save myself. My feet falter and I slip at the sight of blood squirting over the walls.

I fall on the ground, having to shout to give myself the strength to get back up.

"Get back here!" he yells behind me, sprinting in my direction with a determined look on his face. He is free. But he is still chasing me. That's it. I am screwed.

I start running when he is metres away but by then it is too late, "No!" I shriek as his arms wrap around me from behind. I kick out my legs, desperate to slip away.

He slams me against the nearest wall, one hand already tangled in my hair to hold me in place, "You're gonna pay for that," he laughs mockingly, keeping me stationary with his enormous body.

I scream because it is the only thing I can do. There must be somebody else around to help. There must be.

A loud gunshot makes me jump. And then another. I feel his body slack behind me. I feel his arms loosen around me.

His body falls to the ground with a thud. I gasp, his blood soaking the back of my shirt. I feel slightly dizzy. My head is pounding. The gunshots are still loud in my ears, like a record on repeat.

I turn to see Tobias lowering his gun before running towards me. Another guard is staring at the body near my feet.

 **Hope you enjoyed this mini-series. Watch out for The Nanny 2, coming soon! Although I am not sure what to call the sequel yet. Maybe some suggestions?**

 **Thank you for your support :)**


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